Ice Skates and Cheap Booze
by Cleo Burton
Summary: Harry Potter, an Auror, is off on some random case that his lover, Draco, doesn't really care about. All he really cares about is Christmas is officially over and Harry is not here to celebrate with him. Fluffy Mansex ensues.


**Ice Skates and Cheap Booze**

_**A Harry/Draco New Years fic**_

_**Rated- NC-17**_

_**Warning: P.W.P. Fluff smut. If man-sex squicks you, I suggest you leave now!!!**_

_A/N- Total fluffiness!!! Not Deathly Hallows compliant, but takes place after battle with Voldemort._

Draco stared forlornly at the place where their Christmas tree had stood. He pouted his lower lip out a little, feeling a little saddened that his favorite holiday was officially over. He ruffled his silver-blonde hair lightly as, with a flick of his wand, the final box of ornaments went soaring to its place in the attic. The unfortunate emptiness that Draco always felt when his lover was not around was magnified at least ten-fold by the sheer and utter absence of Christmas spirit. In truth, Draco wished he could have Christmas every day.

It wasn't like he just wanted to get free stuff from people (but that was always a nice plus) but he loved the feeling of togetherness he received when he sat around an opulently decorated fir with his lover and his friends. At first, he was uneasy about sitting around a tree with Weasley and his bushy-haired girlfriend, Granger. But as he watched the smile on that perfectly sculpted face and those brilliantly green eyes light up with happiness and anticipation with each gift, Draco knew that spending time with Harry Potter's friends wasn't too bad.

It had been the look on Harry's face when he opened the special gift that Draco had gotten him. It was a very masculine locket—a simple silver oval with an intricate 'H' surrounded by rubies around the edges. On the inside, Draco had put two special pictures—One was of Harry, in his Quidditch uniform, with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione out on the pitch. It was a special picture because it was taken just after they won the Quidditch Cup with Harry as the captain for the first time. The other side was a picture of Draco and Harry, taken the day that Draco had _finally_ admitted his deep love for Harry.

Draco had expected a miniscule amount of watering at the corner of those beautiful, emerald-colored eyes, and maybe some baiting about how Draco was the feminine one. But Harry had actually fallen into Draco's arms, hugging him tightly. A whispered 'thank you' sent shivers down Draco's spine as Harry returned the favor later that night on brand new silk sheets.

But now, on New Years Eve, Draco was home alone, stuck taking down the Christmas tree. It always depressed him to do such things, kind of like leaving a movie theatre after the movie or going back to summer camp to grab something you forgot after everyone left—all the magic was gone.

_OoOoOo_

A few hours later, Draco was sulking on the couch. His legs were crossed at the knees, like a woman's, and he was watching this really cheesy show, starring a guy with a retched Liverpool accent talking with some cleavage-bearing blonde pop-star who was complaining about it being cold.

"OF COURSE IT'S COLD, YOU DITZY TART!" Draco exclaimed, waving his cheap beer bottle around wildly. It wasn't New Years until you got totally shit-faced after all. "IT'S CALLED WINTER SO PUTS SOME CLOTHES ON AND SHADDAP!"

Draco had never realized it, but cheap booze and dumb blondes made him really, really angry. Draco never resented dumb blondes or blond jokes because he was a blond, but not an utter ditz, like that little bint Lavendar Brown.

The New Year was rolling in fast, and Draco was home alone with Taz. The huge St. Bernard was slobbering on Draco's knee, but Draco didn't seem to mind. As a matter of fact, he had never felt more aloof about getting his leg disgusting ever. The former Slytherin sighed as he saw the two pairs of ice skates—one pair black and the other white—hanging on a nail next to cloaks, muggle jackets, and messenger bags on the coat rack by the door.

The show suddenly changed mood. The terrible singer finally stopped crooning and the giant mirror ball started to drop on the final seconds on 2007. The 21-year-old blond downed his ninth or tenth beer at least as he counted down with the television.

He must have been sloshed because as the New Year rolled in, he jumped up and down on the couch like a madman while Taz pranced around and wagged his big, white tail.

"WOOHOO!" Draco exclaimed, quite forgetting he had a half-full bottle of cheap liquor in his hands and sloshing it down his gray t-shirt. He collapsed back on the couch and began to giggle uncontrollably.

It wasn't but a good five minutes before Draco dragged himself into the bedroom and flopped on top of the beautiful, fluffy blanket, exhausted.

_OoOoOo_

It was very early in the morning. Draco knew that because his eyes didn't want to open. But something really irritating was coming from the back yard. A hideous scraping noise combined with a booming bark. Draco pulled his wand out of his jeans that he had fallen asleep in and crawled to the window.

The scene made his heart melt. A long, lithe man was spinning across the ice on a pair of black skates. Taz was bounding around the outside of a small pond that had sort of popped up during the spring in the back of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. It was Harry's favorite place to skate. Draco sleepily smoothed his hair and pulled a sweatshirt on. He grabbed his skates on his way out to meet his lover.

"Hey, Drake," Harry said softly, skidding to a stop. "Sorry I woke you."

"No biggie," Draco said softly. He traipsed through the snow and sat on a log that had been cleaned off, lacing his pristine white skates and making his way cautiously to his spinning lover.

"Happy New Year, sweetheart," Harry said, grabbing his lover's wrist.

Harry absently flicked his wand at a small CD player, a song by James Blunt playing—their song! They held each other in an embrace as they just stood there, taking in each other's essences. Harry spun behind Draco and began to pull him in a backwards motion, like two professional figure skaters. Draco was shaky on the skates, but Harry kept him up. It was easily the single most romantic moment in the 21-year-olds' relation ship as they skated to a chorus of _'You're Beautiful.'_

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Harry bent in to kiss Draco. They had never noticed, but whenever Harry was away, it left this bitter aftertaste that Draco was not conscious of until it was gone.

Harry suddenly pulled back and wrinkled his nose; "You taste like beer."

"Sorry," the Slytherin smiled gently as they slowly skidding to a stop.

"Come on," Harry said with a suggestive smile.

After removing their skates, they practically ran to the bedroom with Taz in tow. Then, it was like a couple of savage beasts had been unleashed.

"Oh, merlin, I missed you so much, babe!" Harry exclaimed, taking Draco's earlobe between his soft lips.

Harry often called Draco babe. It was his way of showing affection when they couldn't steal a moment together.

Harry wrinkled his nose again when Draco's sweatshirt was removed; "Your clothes smell like beer too."

"Sorry." 

"No worries, babe," Harry said, sliding his hands under Draco's shirt and running his slightly cold hands across the baby-soft flesh. Draco thrilled at the touch, but his body ached for more.

"Please, Harry!"

Harry grinned and kissed Draco roughly—almost bruising. His strong hands yanked at Draco's shirt, barely breaking the kiss as it was pulled over the blond's head. Draco then proceeded to bury his hands into that beautiful black hair as they kissed with even more ardor than before.

"Gods, Draco!"

Suddenly, there were far too many clothes between them. Draco yanked the black button-down open, grinning with satisfaction as the buttons clattered on the hardwood floor. Harry then pushed Draco in the general direction of the rumpled bed. They bounced deliciously, their erections pressing together so intimately.

Draco couldn't handle it anymore and pressed his hands into Harry's jeans, stroking the delicious length that was warm against his slender hands. Harry groaned as he thrust in Draco's hand, biting his full upper lip.

"Yes, Draco, yes!"

How fucking hot was that? Draco peeled the beautiful skinny jeans that his lover wore off of the toned legs and took the underwear-less length into his hot mouth. The strong stomach above him gleamed with sweat in the soft candlelight as Draco gripped the toned hips and sucked hard. His cheeks hollowed as he applied pressure to the sensitive head.

"OH, fuck Draco!" Harry said, pulling back roughly, and grabbing Draco by the hips. "I need you. Right. Fucking. Now."

Draco moaned as Harry twisted a nippled and nibbled Draco's extremely sensitive neck. He then began to kiss downward, the thin line of blonde hair pointing to the source of the blond's greatest need.

"But first…"

First came the jeans, then came the boxers, then came the mouth. As that perfect and hot mouth sucked Draco's extremely hard cock, he felt like there was nothing else in the world other than that beautiful mouth and the long, moist—_how had he managed that?_—fingers began to probe at the naked entrance.

"What do you want me to do, Draco?"

Draco tried to answer, but one finger broke through and then two. He entirely forgot his snappy retort as the other man began to scissor the digits widely and thrust gently.

"_Malfoy, answer me,"_ Harry said sharply, adding a third finger.

Draco gasped as those perfect digits moved within him hotly. He thrust his hips, attempting to find a rhythm that would give him the most pleasure, but one hand on his hip and the other one adding a fourth finger stilled his motions immediately. Draco knew that Harry would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, but adding a little of the old rivalry would often add to the experience.

"IwantyoutofuckmeHarry," Draco said quickly and breathily.

"Sorry?" Harry smirked and moved his fingers deeper. "Didn't catch that. What?"

"I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me. Harry!"

"How?" Harry asked, ceasing his movements. He then added in a sing-song voice, "Specifics, please, Draco."

"Hard! I don't care just _now!_"

"That's all I needed to hear," Harry said sweetly. He conjured another handful of lubricant and spread it on the hard cock with erotic determination. He then spread Draco's legs wide enough for it to be a little painful before pushing in roughly and thrusting forward without waiting for his lover to adjust.

The dueling feelings of pain and pleasure were battling in Draco and made it feel just like the first time—a little painful, but not all together unpleasant. He grabbed Harry's shoulders and his long legs wrapped around those gorgeous toned hips.

"Oh, god Draco. I-ah-can't hold it!"

"Just let it out!" Draco exclaimed in a husky whisper. "I'm close too!"

"Oh! Oh! God!"

As he mumbled incoherently and thrust harder, Draco felt the familiar tingling and tightening as his creamy, white orgasm spilled between them in one beautiful splash of white. Harry cried out and Draco felt him fill him up as he came inside.

With exhausted effort, Harry pulled himself out of Draco, gasping at the friction, and slumped next to Draco. The Auror kissed his lover and covered them both with the fluffy blanket.

Harry then took Draco into his arms and spooned him, cuddling him close; "There. Your first fuck of 2008… at least I hope."

Draco laughed and squeezed Harry's arm. "Happy New Year love."

"Back at you, babe."


End file.
